


The Passion Pair Love Strolled

by jesterlady



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, Developing Relationship, F/M, Knights - Freeform, One Shot, One True Pairing, POV Multiple, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Knights of the Round Table all have their own opinions about the King and Queen of Camelot.  Sometimes those opinions get changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Passion Pair Love Strolled

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hopefully, this fills the prompt okay. I started writing each section and then realized there needed to be a group dynamic so I tied it together.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. The title is by Sarah Daly.

Elyan

Elyan found it harder to be a knight than he'd thought it would be. It wasn't the sudden elevation of status, the requirement of staying in one place, or the rigorous training schedule. All of those things were hard, but the thing that really bothered him was watching his sister with the King.

It would have been weird enough to get used to the fact that Arthur was openly courting a peasant, but it wasn't just any peasant, it was Elyan's sister. The same one who'd practically raised him and, despite his long absences, Elyan was incredibly protective of her. The entire length of her banishment had been torture for him. And that was before being possessed.

He'd thought he'd be fine now that she was finally Queen, but it turned out that fact changed everything. Gwen wasn't dwelling in the little house they'd grown up in. Strangers lived there now. She didn't really have time for him at the end of the day anymore. Also, because she was Queen, Elyan found his status elevated even more and people started calling him 'my lord.'

All his life he'd known he'd have a problem with whatever man Gwen married, but it wasn't as if he could tell King Arthur that Elyan would break him into little pieces if Arthur hurt his sister. He worried about that a lot. He'd already seen their relationship stretched to the limit, even snapping apart. He didn't want Gwen to go through that again. 

So he watched them closely, ready to step in with whatever help he could when what he considered inevitable happened.

Elyan happened to be training with Arthur one day and Gwen had come down to watch. The training yards were open and a popular pastime for anyone with free time. Archery was set up on one end, swords and maces on the other, a safe path down the middle. The knights were the best at what they did and no one feared to press in close to watch the amazing feats.

Elyan always tried to ignore the watchers, wanting to perfect his craft without interruption, but he heard the commotion like everyone else. One of the archers had slipped, his body turning, his arrow loosed into the onlookers. Elyan followed the path of the arrow in horror as it flew its way, directly at Gwen.

He was too far away, but he started running anyway, vaguely hearing a brutal roar erupt from just ahead of him.

"Guinevere!"

Arthur ran faster than Elyan had ever seen anyone run. Gwen began to dodge, but she wouldn't be fast enough, and, for once, there didn't seem to be anyone around her. Arthur leapt on top of her, the arrow sinking into his shoulder as they tumbled to the ground.

"Arthur!" Gwen cried, rolling out from under him. "Fetch Gaius!" she yelled.

"See to the Queen!" Arthur bellowed, scrambling to his knees and completely ignoring the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. "Guinevere, are you hurt?"

"Arthur, you've been shot with an arrow and you're worrying about me?" she said incredulously, anxiously pulling his armor off as fast as she could, which was very fast considering their father's occupation.

"You're my very life," he said, staying her movements, wrapping his good arm around her. "You are what matters."

Gwen smiled and kissed him, and it was like they were alone, though they were surrounded by concerned subjects. Gradually everything calmed down. Gaius arrived and pronounced the King out of danger.

Elyan felt his heart start beating again in relief and for one second it was as if he could see everything with utter transparency. He realized Arthur and Gwen would be fine. External forces could seek to pull them apart, but Elyan didn't have to worry about Gwen's heart when it came to Arthur's handling of it. It was an incredibly freeing thing to realize and suddenly being a knight was that much easier.

Leon

Leon found change difficult, but it always seemed to happen to him whether he liked it or not, whether he saw it coming or not.

Though some changes he could appreciate. After years of living under Uther's brutal reign, witch hunts, and insane decisions, Arthur's time as ruler was very welcome.

However Arthur tended to follow his heart and sometimes Leon did not know if that was wise. There were several times the young prince had been too reckless and required saving. But Leon believed in loyalty and the code of being a knight above all things. Arthur embodied those two things to a fault so Leon followed him wholeheartedly.

Still, it had made Leon uneasy when Arthur knighted four common men even if the circumstances required it. But that change had turned out to be the best decision that affected Leon that Arthur ever made. Leon loved all the knights under his command, but these knights, they became his brothers. They did everything together, the bond of trust and fidelity between them stronger than anything Leon had ever known.

It took a lot longer for Leon to accept Arthur's choice of wife.

He had known Gwen all of his life and they had played together as children. That made it hard for him to see her as anything other than the little girl streaked with mud who used to push him over while they played. Could such a woman become Queen?

Leon had been trained since his birth that there were certain expectations of nobility in general and royalty in particular. Leon saw many fine qualities in Gwen and always had, but she was not retiring and vague like the other noble women, yet, despite her direct manner, did not seem able to assume command, and had not been brought up in the ways of the court. Sometimes he wondered if Arthur and Gwen might not be setting themselves up for a fall with insisting on being together.

Leon did not make his doubts known. Other than the fact that his loyalty and friendship to both, along with a desire to keep the peace, prevented him from doing so, he did not need to. The same doubts were habitually voiced to both King and Queen by much of the nobility and a few of the commoners.

Leon did not want to be the cause of unhappiness but he could see the burden of feeling not good enough weighing down on Gwen and he wondered if she could ever learn to stand up under it. Was love truly enough to cross stations and break centuries of convention? Could a peasant girl rule Camelot?

Leon spent a great deal of his time in council as head of the knights. The Queen was always present in these meetings at Arthur's insistence, thus breaking many rules set by tradition and Uther alike. Leon watched. He observed. Gradually he came to see the wisdom of his new Queen. She was more familiar with strategy and war than Leon had realized and her knowledge of the city and the people of Camelot was very valuable, more so than Leon could have ever imagined. He found himself learning things about his city that he'd never known before.

His vision of Gwen slowly started to change as well, the little girl with mud in her hair and the blushing handmaiden vanishing and being replaced with a stately Queen, a vision in red and gold, wisdom falling from her tongue. It did not still all his unease, but he was willing to try to understand how this change could be a good thing for Camelot.

Leon was in charge of supplies requisitioning and, one day, became embroiled in a rough situation. Several of the farmers had been keeping back their harvest, stowing more than they needed. Other villages used to trading with theirs, as well as the royal collectors, were suffering from the lack and had brought them to Camelot to apprise the King of the situation, but Arthur was not in the city, being on border patrol with the other knights. Leon had been left behind to watch over Camelot.

So Leon did what he had to do and went to the Queen. She was the only person with the power to deal with the situation, whatever her capability of dealing with it actually was. He explained the circumstances to her and accompanied her to where the farmers were being questioned. 

Gwen went right up to them, kneeling down to their level, gently asking questions, probing beyond their feeble lies. Leon watched in fascination because nobody else had been able to get more than a few words from these men. One of them almost started crying when Gwen was done with him and cried out so Leon could hear.

"God bless you, my lady."

Gwen came back to Leon and started to explain their fear over the new regime and over the unrest after Morgana's latest occupation.

"They will cooperate now."

"Thank you, my lady," Leon said, bowing deep.

Gwen blushed but that did not make him value her less, it made him understand her more. She was still the girl from his childhood, the innocent maid he'd known, but she was also a Queen. She deserved her position, not solely for loving and being loved by Arthur, but because she was good at it and had earned it.

That was the day Leon decided he would fight and die for his Queen, a woman who had risen further than he would have ever envisioned She was the perfect mate to the King he already honored and their marriage would be the start of something wonderful, far beyond Leon's greatest hopes or dreams. Together, they were capable of anything and he would do all he could to help them achieve it.

Gwaine

Gwaine liked women. They liked him, too. From Camelot throughout the Five Kingdoms he'd spread love and received it in return. It never lasted long, often just the night, but he remembered them, every single one. They were from all walks of life, the bar wenches perhaps his most common bedmate, but there were the servant girls, the merchants' daughters, the lonely farmers' wives, the runaway Druids, the feisty gypsies, the dangerous bandits; he'd met and loved them all. Even noble women sometimes succumbed to his charms, though they were few and far between, both from his lack of love for the nobility and their lack of love for commoners.

Gwaine certainly had experience in the area of romance and he could count on one hand the number of women who had rejected him offhand and he'd never been able to talk around. Many was the time a woman had, at first, told him to leave them alone, but were later charmed into accepting him into their good graces. Only five had continually spurned his advances. Three out of morality, which he could respect since he wasn't about to stay around and woo and marry them properly, one out of insanity he was pretty sure, especially with the long jagged scar on his hip he had to remind him of her, and one…one for true, true love.

Gwaine had instantly been attracted to Gwen, and he’d initially supposed her no different from any other girl, but she had been sweet and open, yet firm with her refusal. It had intrigued him and his pride instantly resolved to rise to the challenge of wooing her, which was actually a bit difficult with the pratly prince making him polish an entire army's worth of boots, protecting Merlin from ruffians, being banished and all. But then…then she'd given her little speech about Arthur and it had all become clear.

It was strange how many people, common people, looked to this man and saw in him a man worth dying for, a leader worth following. Gwaine wasn't sure why that sparked something inside of him, some wish to feel something like that himself; but it had eased his need to conquer Gwen's affections. Even he couldn't be so callous as to continually advance where he was not wanted.

The two of them would have a rough road ahead of them, he was sure of that, but somehow he considered it attainable. Perhaps it was something of Gwen and Merlin's devotion transferred to him that made him save Arthur in the melee.

Gwaine had gone back to his own life after that, but he'd never forgotten Camelot, never forgotten the people, Merlin's inane grin, Arthur's earnest apology, and Gwen's compassionate hug goodbye. So he went back, always went back, drawn to Camelot, and when Arthur needed him, Gwaine answered the call, even if it went against every principle and routine of his life.

Gwen was there, answering the call as well, and Gwaine could see something had changed between them. Whatever tentativeness or reluctance to be seen together that had been there was gone. There was practically a golden chain linked between them, proclaiming their connection. Gwaine was sure they would never be parted and he spent his time pursuing other women, finding himself at home in Camelot, learning to work with his fellow knights. 

Even that whole mess with Lancelot, (and Gwaine didn't know what had happened there), didn't stop him from believing in Gwen, in her love for Arthur, even when the idiot didn't deserve it. Perhaps it was arrogance but Gwaine knew that a woman who had given him over for someone would never forsake that someone. Gwen's heart was as pure as Gwaine's was not.

He was proven right in the end, like he always was, he'd thought smugly at the time. Gwen and Arthur were married and she was made Queen of Camelot and Gwaine was happy they would have what they should have.

He made a point of telling Gwen so one day, strolling through the marketplace.

"What does that mean?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

"Well, any girl who could reject me," he said, spreading his arms wide, "knows what her heart truly wants."

She rolled her eyes and continued on.

"You are a determined flirt, Sir Gwaine," she said fondly.

"Yes, I am," he admitted, then paused, "but the only woman worth not being one for is already taken, so I seem destined to remain so."

"I am not the only woman in the world worth having," she said, putting a hand on his arm.

He felt a strange sense of seriousness he usually tried to hide with banter and jokes.

"I've never known how to love a woman really," he said. "I thought I did and many would say I do, but, once I met you, I discovered I did not know what real love was. A piece of my heart became yours that day and I never got it back. I cannot give it to another."

She looked on him with compassion and spoke regally as she had since she became more accustomed to being Queen.

"You will have what you need one day, when it is required again. But I will keep it safe for you if you promise me to keep your eyes and heart open."

"I never break a promise to a lady," he said, bowing. She arched her eyebrow. "Not a real promise," he protested.

She smiled.

"I accept your word, Sir Knight."

They continued on their way, Gwaine making sure to point out the exact spot where they had met, and he found himself realizing something profound once again from the woman walking beside him.

Gwaine liked women, but he'd never loved one. Now he knew what to shoot for. It was in Gwen's smile whenever she looked at Arthur, or the way Arthur droned on and on about her perfection, or the way they touched each other when they thought no one was watching, or even in the struggles they'd overcome to be together. Gwaine wasn't afraid of the challenge of waiting and there were always plenty of taverns full of beautiful women to satiate him until the time came.

Percival

Percival considered himself a simple man. He didn’t like frills or feasts or long sleeves or anything unnecessary in his life. He’d been born in a small village, raised by good people, accustomed to love and harmony along with hard work and poverty. That had all changed the day his village was destroyed and his family slaughtered.

A part of him died that day along with his family and Percival was pretty sure it was his ability to trust people. He’d wandered a long time, simply surviving, and it wasn’t a pretty way to live. He’d met good people and bad people along the way and done things he’d rather not think about again. He kept his heart and his loyalty locked away inside himself, preferring silence to conversation and work to stillness.

He’d become a fighter out of necessity, his muscles and brawn acquiring him something of a reputation, which is what had led Lancelot to him. Together they’d become a team and even if Percival didn’t understand Lancelot’s incessant belief in the nobility of man, he trusted Lancelot more than anybody he’d met since his family had perished.

Lancelot led him to Arthur and Percival found his entire worldview overthrown when Arthur, the Prince of Camelot, shook his hand in gratitude. When common men, banished men, knights, women, servants, people from all walks of life, would give their lives for this one man. It went against everything he'd ever found himself believing, before his wandering days and during.

Percival found a cause to believe in over the next few years. It was a gradual process and he found himself stretching further than he wanted to be stretched sometimes. But it impossible not to open himself up to Gwaine’s overwhelming personality, Merlin’s gentle cheekiness, Leon’s stolid loyalty, and Arthur’s compassionate authority. He had withdrawn into himself greatly after Lancelot’s death, but then he had been drawn out again, unable to help himself.

Percival didn’t really trust that this fairytale world wouldn’t be taken away from him as well. Lancelot’s death proved that. Every time they went into battle Percival feared someone else would die, and someone usually did, though none of his closest friends. So far.

Perhaps it was that reason that he stayed far away from Arthur and Gwen. He didn’t want to have anything to do with people so far up the ladder of royalty. Arthur awed him with his nobility and desire for relationship with a common born woman. Gwen fascinated him with her ability to transcend class and so openly reach for something forbidden. Percival might be strong, but he wasn’t strong enough to do either of those things. He feared for them, for he was sure such a relationship could never last. He knew that happy endings didn’t actually happen.

So he didn’t pursue friendships with either of them, still he had his fellow knights and his work and he was happy, even if he did keep waiting for bad things to happen.

One day he’d been assigned to guard the Queen on her trip outside Camelot to visit her father’s grave. Elyan normally did that, of course, but Elyan was on border patrol at the moment so Percival rode quietly by the Queen’s side.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said. “I know it’s a boring job, being assigned to protect me.”

“Arthur would never forgive us if anything happened to you,” Percival answered. “That makes it exciting.”

She laughed slightly.

“Then I apologize for being such a grave responsibility. I don’t often feel the need to go see my father when it’s not the anniversary of his death, but today…I just needed to.” Percival didn’t answer, the conversation making him uncomfortable. She glanced at him. “I sometimes fear that all the joy I feel now makes me forget the pain of the past. I never want to forget what I’ve lost.”

“Lost?” Percival asked.

“All of my family, my freedom, my friends. Being Queen and happy is new for me, I’m afraid.”

“I understand,” he said after a moment.

“Yes, I imagine you do,” she said. “Percival, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“All right,” he said, unsure.

“You don’t have to answer. But I was wondering about your family, why you never go to see their final resting places.”

“They’re dead. I don’t see the point. I can never get that back.”

“I see. I guess we have different views on that.”

“Why? Why do you go?”

“To remember what it’s like to have that and never forget to strive for it.”

“Even if you become happy again…it won’t be the same and there’s no guarantee it will last,” he pointed out.

“There’s no guarantee it won’t,” she rejoined. “And just because I might lose something does not mean I should refuse it when it’s offered. I can’t imagine a more unhappy life, closed off from everything that would give me joy.” Percival shifted uncomfortably, not liking how close her remarks were. “I’m sorry,” she said, obviously noticing. “I am not trying to offend.”

“I know,” he said shortly. “I just…well, I never thought of it that way. I sort of, try to never…trust things will last.”

“Believe me, I understand perfectly,” Gwen said. “I have had periods where I tried to push people away thinking it would protect me from more harm. Just ask Elyan. Certainly there were many times where I wasn’t sure my faith in the love we share could save Arthur and I. He’s had the same doubts, but now I am surer of our marriage than I am of anything else. Even if I knew Arthur would die tomorrow, I would not trade our time together for anything in the world.”

Percival almost wanted to flinch from the confidence in her voice, the love and joy in her face. He remembered faintly what that was like, he’d felt that way once. 

It made sense to him in a way it probably wouldn’t have even a year earlier. Just perhaps he’d gone too far the opposite direction away from what he feared. It didn’t really make sense living life not letting yourself wholeheartedly believe and love anything simply because you were afraid. He wasn’t convinced entirely. Almost an entire lifetime of habit could not be broken by a few remarks, but he was willing to listen.

He smiled a little bit, suddenly curious to know more about this courageous woman riding beside him and not dreading the rest of their journey at all. Not really dreading tomorrow either. For the first time in a long time.

Knights

The banquet hall of Camelot was full of laughter and gaiety, another feast to celebrate the anniversary of the King and Queen’s marriage underway. The servants were bustling to and fro making sure the wine kept flowing. A smaller party would shortly be underway for them after the main festivities had quieted down and a day of rest for the morrow had been proclaimed. Camelot’s servants had much to be thankful for with the rise of a commoner as Queen, a ruler who could understand their burdens.

The trumpets sounded, announcing the beginning of the dancing. The King stood and offered his hand to his Queen which she graciously accepted. He led her to the dance floor and the entire court watched their monarchs lead the room.

The knights were leaning back against the wall, half alert for any potential danger (Camelot feasts tended to end in challenges from strangers,) and half avoiding the dance floor. The ones born to nobility were resigned to having to ask the noble women of the court to dance and certainly it was a grand courting opportunity, but Arthur’s common born knights were not versed in the dances of the nobility and their refusal to learn was as legendary as their acts of prowess.

“He moans enough about it in private, but look at him,” Gwaine said, gesturing to the King. “Swanning about with the best of them.”

“I rather think it’s his partner that inspires the grace,” Leon said, his glance taking in the dancers with a keen observance.

“Do you have to?” Elyan asked, his impatience coloring his tone.

The other knights were well aware of Elyan’s reluctance to talk about Gwen and Arthur’s relationship and relished taking every opportunity to tease him about it.

“But it’s true,” Gwaine said, poking Elyan with his elbow. “Most of us knew Arthur before the marriage; wouldn’t you say he’s vastly improved? You should consider it an honor, _my lord_.”

Elyan rolled his eyes at Gwaine’s emphasis, but refrained from speaking.

“They have both improved,” Leon said. “No disrespect to our Queen, but I have known them both all of my life, and certainly she has gained certain skills as well as self-confidence since becoming Queen.”

“You sound like you’re giving a speech,” Gwaine said irreverently. “Tell us what you really think. Don’t mince on the gossip.”

Leon drew himself up as befit the leader of the knights of Camelot and would have gone to battle for the honor of his rulers had not Elyan hissed at them to keep it down.

“People are listening to us.”

“Let them listen,” Gwaine said, but he took another swig of wine instead of continuing his tirade. “What do you think, Percival lad?”

The quiet knight mostly stayed out of these kinds of conversations, but he had observed the same thing they all had.

“They look happy. I didn’t know them before they were together, but they’re happy. All that matters, isn’t it?”

“Spoken like a true, wise man,” Elyan said with a pointed look at Gwaine.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true,” Gwaine said. “Look, Arthur is a prat, but I’d die for him in a second, we all know it. Gwen’s the most heavenly woman on this earth, but she’s not perfect. All I can say is we lucked out, mates. The best rulers the land has ever seen and all we have to do is swing our swords around and protect them.”

“They are perfect,” Elyan admitted, looking over at his sister and the King, smiling at each other, Arthur throwing his head back to laugh at something Gwen said. “He cares very much for her and she is well suited for him.”

“Not just for him, for Camelot. She rules well and wisely, a very capable Queen, not just another pretty face,” Leon said. “The people have never been happier.”

“I gather they’ve never been happier,” Percival said, watching the dancers closely. Arthur and Gwen were dancing closer than propriety usually allowed, even for married couples. “And that bleeds over into the rest of us.”

“You’ve been smiling more as of late,” Gwaine remarked, laughing. “It must be. Well, we’re all agreed, we like the King and Queen. Congrats to us, to Camelot, to them. Let the wine flow long and full. Merlin!” he said, gesturing to the servant hurrying past with a jug of wine.

Merlin stopped and topped them all up with wine, flashing his grin at them all.

“Enjoying yourselves?” he asked.

“Not as much as our sovereigns,” Gwaine said, pointing to where Arthur was kissing his Queen under the scandalized looks of some of the older courtiers.

Merlin gazed at them with a sort of proud fondness as if he was looking at his children doing something he’d trained them for.

“It all worked out in the end,” he said enigmatically and moved off, leaving the knights to their drink, conversation, and merriment.


End file.
